


Famous People You Can Live Through

by addictedkitten



Category: Popslash
Genre: Clones, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-18
Updated: 2006-03-18
Packaged: 2017-10-31 05:29:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/340444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/addictedkitten/pseuds/addictedkitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Justin and JC meet their clones. Wackiness ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Famous People You Can Live Through

**Author's Note:**

> This is sort of vaguely crossovery; I got the idea from The Island, but you don't really need to have seen the movie to understand anything here. Anything you need to know is explained in the fic. Also I sort of ignored the fact that the movie is set in the future. So yeah, it's not so much a crossover as a convenient excuse. Thanks, Michael Bay!

The doorbell had probably been ringing for five straight minutes by the time JC got to it, still mentally counting out the beats of the song he'd been writing downstairs. The studio was pretty much soundproof, but JC finally realized that the extra beat wasn't actually in his head, it was the insistent, regular ringing of the doorbell. He thought he might add it in to the song anyway.

JC opened the door and found himself staring at...well, himself.

"Hi," the other JC said. "You must be me."

JC blinked. Then he did it again. His mind seemed to be racing even faster than usual all of a sudden, as if he'd sped the backbeat of the song up to a frantic pounding pace, which, hey, actually would sound pretty cool now that he thought about it and okay, wait, wait, wait. Panic, right, confusion, some more confusion, Twilight Zone theme kicking up in his head (which would sound kick _ass_ if he sampled it, maybe right behind the chorus- fuck, JC, focus). The other JC was looking at him, head tilted to the side.

"Hi," JC said.

"Sorry to just show up like this, man," the other JC said. "I tried calling, but there wasn't any answer."

"It's cool." JC nodded, although in fact nothing about this situation was cool. Actually, the fact that there was another person that looked just like him was kind of interesting. JC thought maybe he could get a song or two out of it. Hell, maybe even a concept album. "So who are you?"

"Chasez Three Echo," he said. "Your clone."

Ah, JC thought. That would explain the different hair. Chasez Three Echo had the longish curls JC had gotten tired of months ago, and lacked JC's blond highlights. JC suddenly kind of missed his old hair. His clone was really working the look, all windswept with his skin a little sunburned.

Sometimes strange things happened in JC's life. Lance had turned into a girl for about a month back in 1997, and once Justin and Chris had switched bodies for a week after No Strings came out. At first it was weird, but then it became kind of funny. JC figured these things just happened, you know, and that life was strange and you couldn’t really question it. Or, you could, but it was kind of pointless trying to fathom the infinite oddities of the universe.

"Come on in," JC said to his clone.

They sat down at his kitchen table with glasses of iced tea and looked each other over for a few minutes.

"So what are you doing here?" JC asked, once he was satisfied that the other him was pretty much an exact match. He was actually JC's clone. Cool.

"Well, you know, the breakout and everything," Chasez Three Echo said. "A lot of people ended up getting picked up, and the rest of us went off to find our sponsors."

"Breakout?" JC raised an eyebrow.

Chasez Three Echo looked at him. "You mean you haven't heard?"

JC hadn't, obviously, and so Chasez Three Echo explained about the institute, and how they'd all been lied to, sponsors and clones alike. How cloned bodies couldn't survive comatose, and what they'd been told about the island, and how there were a few thousand of them, and now there were going to be a whole lot of rich and famous people dealing with real live clones. He also said that, in the spirit of becoming his own person, and also to make things less confusing, he decided he was going to go by Chas.

"Fuck," JC said, leaning back into his chair once Chas was finished. "I didn't know, man. I didn't realize you'd actually be a person."

"No one knew, don't worry about it. It's not your fault."

JC still felt bad anyway. "Well you can stay here as long as you want to. We'll figure out something for you."

Chas grinned JC's own bright dazzling grin back at him.

-

It turned out Chas was actually pretty cool to have around. Apparently some flaw in the design had clones from Chas's generation manifesting traits of their sponsors, so Chas and JC got along fabulously, each musical and quirky and artistic and sort of weird. It wasn't quite like having a twin; they didn't finish each other's sentences or anything, but JC could say things like "you know, yeah, like, waves. Only in your brain" and have Chas understand him completely. They worked on a few songs together, and JC taught Chas how to make easy things like toast and fruit salad. Chas slept a lot less than JC, and kept different hours, so JC gave him a stack of books he'd always liked and taught him a few Playstation games. It was mostly pretty easy to keep Chas happy.

A week or so had passed when Chris came to visit. JC had been in an extended anti-social period, so Chris was the first person Chas met after he and JC had scared the housekeeper half to death the previous morning. Chris came in, ruffled Chas's hair ("Glad to see you're back to your natural state," Chris said), and settled down to a late breakfast on the back porch.

"So how you doing, man?" Chris asked, munching on a piece of pineapple. "It's been like forever."

"I'm cool," Chas said. "I've been reading a lot. And recording."

Chris nodded. "Party never stops with you, C."

"I've been trying to ease into everything," Chas said. "It's an adjustment, you know."

"Yeah, not really. But sure, I guess, for those of you that actually work." Chris then launched into lurid tales of the mischief he'd gotten up to in the last few months, including acts that Chas hadn't actually heard of. He thought he might be interested in "freaking" somebody, though. It sounded kind of thrilling. Like getting extra bacon at breakfast back at the institute, or when he had successfully cut an entire pineapple without slicing his fingers.

Chas said, truthfully, that he hadn't done anything like that recently, but that he wanted to. It sounded cool.

"Oh, like you don't know, C," Chris said, rolling his eyes. "Your whole workaholic celibacy thing is really weirding me out. How are you supposed to find new material for the next album?"

"We're writing songs about clone sex," Chas offered. He hadn't really understood the sex thing either, but mostly JC just wanted him to harmonize with, and it turned out Chas was pretty good at rhyming things, so he did that too.

"We?" Chris said. "Have you brought in Brad and Alex already, or are you writing with someone else?"

"He's writing with me," JC said, walking outside through the sliding glass door. Chris shrieked. "Whoa, Chris, you okay?"

Chris's eyes darted back and forth between them. "Uh, hey. There something you want to tell me?"

JC scratched his head. "I missed you?"

"Okay, something you want to tell me about the fact that there's two of you? Have you like, reproduced asexually or something? I know you're into some freaky shit, but I thought even cellular division was beyond you." He stared at JC for a minute. "And you still have that hair. You should go back to how it was, it looks better."

"This is Chas," JC said, ignoring that last remark. "He's my clone."

"No shit!" Chris said. He bounced a bit on the balls of his feet, suddenly comprehending. "You had one of those guys made too? It's been all over the news, fucking crazy shit, man. So you're just letting him hang out?"

JC shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. I mean, he's cool."

"And you didn't bother to mention it to anyone?" Chris asked as Chas beamed. "Because I have to tell you, C. You've got a clone. Warn a guy."

"I just didn't think about it," JC admitted. "You mean you didn't even notice you weren't talking to the real me?"

"Hey," Chas said, mildly offended. "I'm the real me, too."

"I'm not even sure you're the real you half the time, C," Chris said, staring at Chas in something like awe. "He's weird like you, only different."

JC and Chas looked at each other. "It's still not as weird as when Lance turned into a girl back in Munich," JC said finally.

"No," Chris said. "But you have to admit it's pretty close."

-

"You have one too," Justin said when JC answered the phone. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I didn't psychically know you were in the same situation?" JC hazarded.

"I'm coming over," Justin said. "I'm bringing mine."

Twenty minutes later the doorbell rang. JC looked through the peephole. A pair of Justins looked back. JC opened the door.

"JC," one of them said. His hair was a mass of curls. JC had seriously forgotten how insane the 'fro could get when left unattended. "I'm Timberlake Six Foxtrot. Call me Foxtrot."

"Call him Tim," Justin said. "And take him away from me."

"I already have one," JC said, shrugging apologetically. He looked Tim over. Somehow it was weirder to see two Justins than it had been to see his own double, especially since the difference between the two was so pronounced. Justin's hair was just long enough to curl slightly, and he was a bit scruffy, and next to Tim the contrast was startling. Tim looked like he was about nineteen. JC shook his head, inviting them inside.

Tim walked a little ahead of them, looking around. Justin clutched at JC's arm. "Seriously, C. This whole thing is too fucking twisted. I'm freaking out."

JC rubbed Justin's arm soothingly. "What's the matter? You don't like him? Because mine isn't actually that much different from me."

"It's not that," Justin said, leaning into JC's touch. "I mean, it is, but it's not. Just, okay, imagine that I'd grown up in a normal environment, without all the touring and the fans and the fame. Imagine if I'd grown up without all of you guys around. Without Chris to look up to, without Joey to pal around with, without Lance, without you. What would I be?"

"I'm not really sure," JC said. His head was spinning a little. The idea of Justin growing up without Chris's sense of humor to emulate was a little disquieting. JC suddenly realized just how much influence they had all had on each other, but especially Justin, who'd been all of fourteen when they started. "I think you'd be- I think you'd be, like, innocent. Like a goldfish." Justin raised an eyebrow at him. "You know, how they only have a three second memory. So everything is constantly new." JC looked at Tim, who was looking around the house with a delighted grin on his face. "And shiny."

"Are you guys talking about me?" Tim asked. He turned to face them, offering up a dazzling, guileless grin. "It's okay, I don't mind if you do."

"Holy fuck," JC said quietly. It wasn't like Justin was completely jaded or anything, but JC hadn't seen him like that in years, openly fascinated and thrilled. It was kind of intense.

Chas peered around the corner as they neared the living room. "Hi," he said, waving shyly at Justin. His eyes slid over to Tim, and his mouth dropped open a little. "Hi, wow," he said, after a second. "Wow, I never- I'm Chasez Three Echo. Chas."

JC looked at Tim, who seemed equally enchanted, grasping Chas's outstretched hand and holding on. "I'm Timberlake Six Foxtrot. Tim. We never met at the institute, did we?"

"I would have remembered," Chas said. "You're Foxtrot generation, so you weren't long after me. There's no way I wouldn't have noticed you." He looked at JC and Justin as if he'd forgotten they were there. "We're gonna go get acquainted." He let go of Tim's hand, reluctantly from the looks of it. They stood so close as they walked out that the backs of their knuckles brushed.

"Cameron and I broke up," Justin said eventually. "She wanted to have a threesome with Tim."

JC thought about that. Actually, he thought it sounded kind of hot. Probably not what Justin needed to hear, though. "You want a drink?"

"Sure."

Neither of them mentioned the fact that it was barely noon, or that their clones were blatantly flirting with each other. JC thought it was probably better that way.

-

"Tim is so beautiful," Chas said. "He's like a sunset. A tall golden sunset. Pretty," he said, with a faraway look. JC wondered if he was ever this weird. Probably he was, he thought with mild horror. This new self-awareness thing sucked.

Justin had finally dragged Tim away, claiming he had work to do, and that no, Tim couldn't just stay here and talk to Chas all night. No, he couldn't. He _couldn't._ Because there were rules against things like that. No sleepovers unless you're too drunk to drive yourself home, and even then you call a cab. Tim declared he didn't understand society, with all its silly rules, and Chas fervently agreed. They had clutched each other's hands tightly, standing in solidarity against the rules that Justin tried to explain about how guys didn't do that, because it was sort of gay. And then they'd had to explain "gay" and also, thrillingly, sex, because the mad scientists had apparently made them without sex drives so they wouldn't interbreed. This clone thing just got better and better.

"I hope Justin brings Tim by tomorrow." Chas was _yearning._ JC was alarmed. "And the next day. And the day after that."

JC wondered how he supposed to explain love.

-

Justin showed up a few days later, Tim in tow. JC stepped back to let them in.

"I have a thing," Justin said. "Can Tim hang out?"

"What?" Chas asked, peering around the corner when he heard the name. "Tim!" They bounded toward each other with identical expressions of delight. It was, JC admitted to himself, fucking adorable.

"Um, sure," JC said, although the point was kind of moot now that Chas and Tim were on their way to the backyard, heading for the pool. Tim's arm was around Chas's shoulder, and their heads were bent together in conversation. JC thought he heard giggling. "Why can't you just let him and Trace hang out?"

"No reason," Justin said quickly. "Well, I mean." He frowned. "I think Trace likes him better than me."

"What?"

"He's just." Justin gestured, though JC wasn't sure at what. "He's happy all the time, and really nice. It's like he wants everyone to like him."

"Like you."

"Not like that, more like he needs constant approval. And attention."

"Like you," JC said, more slowly this time.

"You're not being very helpful."

"It's okay," JC said. He patted Justin on the shoulder. "I like you better than Tim."

"Really?" Behind him, Trace was hitting the car horn.

"Yes, really. Go, do your thing. Hey." JC leaned in and gave Justin a kiss on the cheek. "No one likes him better."

Justin smiled, and JC sent him off with a wave.

In the backyard, Chas and Tim were splashing around in the pool, their clothes in a heap on the grass. JC decided to spend the afternoon in the studio, hiding.

-

When JC went out to check on them later, they were tangled nakedly together on the lawn, fast asleep. It was sweet, but mostly, JC thought, shifting awkwardly on his feet, kind of hot. Aesthetically, JC mentally added. Just, they were all golden and comfortable-looking. Natural, almost, with their uncolored hair, and both nicely in shape. Chas was even a little more filled-out than JC was, probably because he got regular meals at the institute, and hadn't yet adopted JC's freakish eating habits.

And Tim was, well. Beautiful, really, just miles of uninterrupted tanned skin, and curls fluffy from drying in the sun. Sure, JC had looked at Justin before, even given him the kind of attention he was now paying Tim, but Justin was never this- he couldn't look at Justin this way, hadn't ever really let himself. Even when there wasn't anything really stopping him, there was still, well. It was Justin, and thus it was complicated.

JC looked at Chas and Tim, shifting sleepily against each other.

Maybe it actually wasn't that complicated after all.

-

While the rest of America was busy discussing the moral implications of cloning and expressing horror and outrage, Hollywood and its denizens declared clones the hot new accessory. Everyone who was anyone had one; it was the mark of the truly rich, and those who didn't have their own started up new charities based on clone rehabilitation. Paris Hilton never left home without hers. US Weekly devoted an entire section of each issue to clone gossip, and Jenna Jameson's film 'Jenna Loves Jenna' sold a record number of copies for a porno movie and won the AVN Film of the Year award.

"I want to go out," Chas said, as he sat on the couch paging through the new issue of Star. He had developed an affinity for gossip magazines, which JC found sort of weird, because whenever he read those he always felt like he was spying on his friends, or on friends of his friends, or just people he'd seen around. It was sort of like being on the inside looking in from the outside. Or something. Chas seemed to have no such problem, which made sense. He didn't know any of these people, so the gossip rags were just illustrated stories about beautiful people to him.

"Sure," JC said, because Chas never asked for much, really, and they hadn't left the house that often. Tim had come over with Justin for a few of what Justin called "play dates", but Chas hadn't really been out in public. JC felt sort of guilty.

They got dressed up and headed to a club that Chas said he'd heard of, and when they pulled up at the back entrance Justin and Tim were there.

"Man, we've got to go inside before the paparazzi come- oh," Justin said, when he saw JC and Chas roll up. "Tim, you manipulative little fucker."

"Chas!" Tim said ecstatically, and he and Chas leaped all over each other like eager puppies.

"The faster we get inside the sooner we can start drinking," JC said to Justin. They made for the door, bumping shoulders as they tried to get in at the same time.

"I think," Justin said later, leaning against the bar and sucking down martinis like it was his job, "that we've been underestimating them."

"I thought they weren't supposed to have sex drives," JC muttered. Tim and Chas were in the middle of the dance floor grinding on each other, Tim's hands in Chas's back pockets.

"Yeah, well, it looks like they're learning." Tim rolled his hips against Chas's, and Justin looked a little green, but also a little proud. "I always thought I got that move from the choreography, you think maybe it was just innate?"

JC wondered what else was innate. Tim was crafty like Justin, and had the same guilelessly sincere grin, but he also seemed to enjoy getting his freak on with JC's physical double, which Justin had never been into. At least not as far as JC knew, and JC hoped he would have noticed if Justin had been interested in him that way. He wanted to ask Justin about it, but asking Justin would entail, well, _asking_ , and the Big Gay Clone Affair Of The Ages seemed to remain an off-limits topic. They could joke about it, sure, and trade pithy comments about sex drives, but neither of them had so far acknowledged the big questions. It was a perpetual pink elephant, following the four of them around.

"Jayceeeeeee!" Paris Hilton came bounding over, Red Bull in one hand and clone in the other. They both beamed at him and Justin. "This is Hil!" Paris's clone greeted him brightly and they both leaned in to kiss him, one on each cheek. JC admired the synchronization of it all. Justin edged away slowly.

"Hey, Paris," JC said, smiling at her. He liked Paris. She sparkled.

"You guys have clones too, that's so hot!" Paris pulled Hil closer. "Isn't it just the greatest? I love having a clone!"

"Yeah, it's something alright," JC agreed. On the dance floor, Justin was attempting to get to Chas and Tim, whose hands had disappeared beneath each other's clothes. Tim's fingers were dipping beneath the waistband of Chas's pants.

"My boyfriend loves her too," Paris said. "We just had the greatest threesome. Have you tried it? Clone sex is _awesome_. I didn't think I'd be into girl-on-girl, but it's totally not like that, it's like me-on-me!"

"Cool," JC said. Justin had almost reached Chas and Tim, but now he appeared to be waylaid by a pair of Lindsay Lohans. Chas and Tim were about an inch away from making out right there.

"Ohmygod, are your clones in love?" Paris asked, following JC's gaze. "JC, they are! Look at them!"

Justin was pushing his way between them, and it looked like he was shouting something. Tim had an innocent look to him, which JC remembered from every single time Justin had ever gotten in trouble. The Lindsays seemed to have recovered from the loss of Justin's company, and were dancing with each other. Chas and Tim were holding hands again. Justin threw his hands up in the air, and went back to the bar. Chas and Tim immediately moved back into each others' space, Chas slinging his arms around Tim's neck and pressing their bodies together.

"That's hot," Paris's clone said.

At the bar, Justin was gesturing toward a full bottle of Jack Daniels, indicating that he wanted the entire thing. JC hoped only that he would share.

-

JC opened his eyes, and that was his first mistake. No, probably his first mistake had been purchasing a cellular phone, which could then ring piercingly a foot away from his head, thus introducing him to the single worst hangover of his life.

"Turnifuckoff," Justin muttered, and no, no, no, just fucking no, okay. JC fumbled for the phone, with his eyes closed because if he didn't _see_ Justin then obviously Justin wasn't there. Although he could still feel Justin, the soft buzz of his hair tickling JC's chin and his warm steady breath on JC's neck, and oh, right, also the comfortably heavy press of his body where he was draped half across JC on top of the covers. "Off," Justin snarled, or tried to, but he was barely semi-conscious so it came out more like an angry purr, and then he _bit JC's neck_ , which was rather bitchy, but also, JC thought, squirming and finally succeeding in shutting the phone the fuck off, kind of hot, which was. Oh, jesus, JC was way too hungover for this. Although that implied that he would be better able to deal with this situation sober, and that was. No.

"Oh god," JC said, and it came out sounding like a groan.

"Sorry," Justin mumbled, licking lightly at the spot he'd bitten, probably trying to soothe away the pain. JC, funnily enough, wasn't finding the action very soothing at all.

And, okay. So they were still lying there clutching each other (and yes, JC wasn't exactly just passively bearing Justin's weight; his arm was wrapped around Justin and he had hooked his ankle over Justin's, keeping him there), and that really wasn't anything new. No big deal, because seven years in the band had made them pretty comfortable with lying all over each other. Even other things, sometimes, jokey things like Chris biting sometimes when they wrestled, or Lance's propensity to cop a feel when they hugged, then look back innocently as if ass-grabbing was just something guy friends did.

In context, though, there was a gay clone affair going on, and JC and Justin were both single now and alone in JC's bedroom, and the bite on JC's neck was still stinging in a really, really pleasant way. This was sort of, um. Not usual.

"Don't worry, C," Justin murmured, and if JC had had a lot to drink last night, then Justin had had, well. More. Because he sounded like he was still drunk, and he was nuzzling JC's neck, which he didn't usually do when he was sober. "'S fine."

It probably wasn't fine, but Justin sounded so content and felt so nice and warm that JC didn't feel particularly inclined to argue. "Okay," JC said, and kissed Justin's forehead, because it seemed like the thing to do. It was, apparently, because Justin smiled sleepily and snuggled closer. JC smiled back, and closed his eyes.

-

JC woke up to Justin shifting on top of him, and saw Tim standing shirtless in the room, leaning over Justin and searching his back pockets.

Justin opened his eyes. "Tell me," he said slowly, "that my clone was not just trying to grab my ass."

"I was trying to grab your _wallet_ ," Tim said, sounding indignant. "We ordered pizza, and Chas doesn't have any money."

JC blinked. He didn't usually like pizza unless it was after sex. "I have money," he said. Tim walked over and JC realized he had been wrong before. Tim was _naked_.

"Cool," Tim said, taking JC's wallet off the nightstand and strolling back out of the room. "Oh," he said, stopping at the door, "tell Lance we said thanks."

"He was naked," Justin said. His talent for stating the obvious, JC thought, was vast and unappreciated. He looked around. "This is your room."

"Uh huh."

"I'm going to sit up now," Justin said. He did so, and then stared at JC. JC stared back.

"Do you remember," JC asked, "anything at all about last night?"

Justin thought about it. "There was more than one Lindsay Lohan," he said. "But just the one Jack Daniels."

"I think that was all we needed." It was starting to come back to JC now, soft-edged images of last night, Tim and Chas crawling all over each other in the car home and Chas tugging JC over as they stumbled into JC's house and asking for gay sex tips. Then something about- oh god, calling Lance in the middle of the night because JC wasn't up to explaining things, and then standing in the kitchen, drinking glasses of water with Justin and listening to Chas and Tim in the living making out on the couch before JC shunted them off to the guest bedroom and Justin followed JC to his without asking. Then collapsing onto the bed together, still dressed, clinging to each other.

Justin was still looking at JC. "I think I'm going to go see about that pizza," he said, "and make sure Tim puts on some pants."

"Okay." JC rubbed his neck. He was having uncomfortable morning-after feelings. It had been awhile since he'd shared a bed with anyone, and never Justin. Especially not when their clones had been having sex in the guest room.

Chas wandered in and sat on the bed, bouncing a little and making the bed do things that JC's hangover loudly disagreed with. "Tim is so wonderful," he said, flopping backwards and gazing dreamily at the ceiling. "We're in love, JC, like Brad and Angelina, or Tom and Katie, only without all the cheating and Scientology." JC decided to stop buying Chas US Weekly. "He does this thing with his tongue-"

"Um," JC said, not really having anything to say to that, but feeling an intense need to cut Chas off right there. "You haven't really known him that long. Are you sure you're in love? Maybe it's just the sex."

"It's not just the sex," Chas said confidently. "It's a deep spiritual connection. We're going to have beautiful children and a house in Malibu." Yes, definitely time to expose Chas to some literature that wasn't about the rich and fabulous. And maybe also some science textbooks.

JC sighed. Dammit, _he_ wanted beautiful children and a house in Malibu. Well, actually he didn't really want kids that much. And this house was suiting him pretty well. But his clone had a way better sex life than he did, and Chas had only really been alive for like, two years. That really wasn't fair.

"Food's here," Justin said, leaning in the doorway. "Please save me from Tim."

"Tim!" Chas said, as if he'd been reminded of a shiny new present waiting for him downstairs. He shouldered past Justin and raced down the hall.

Justin watched him go, then turned back to JC.

"Did he mention the spiritual connection?" JC asked.

"We don't really sound like that, do we?" Justin said plaintively.

"No," JC said, although he thought Justin did, sometimes.

-

Chas and Tim's deep spiritual connection manifested itself in dozens of adorable ways. They leaned against each other, and held hands, and fed each other pizza, and sprawled in each others' laps. They played long useless hours of war games on X-Box, refusing to shoot each other and so never actually achieving anything. They did each others' hair. They spooned on the couch.

Justin and JC watched them and did not talk about it. It was like Gay Clone Theater or something, JC thought. Interesting, and kind of funny, but mostly it just made JC feel desperately lonely.

It was late afternoon, and JC and Justin were lounging in the backyard, watching Chas and Tim frolic in the pool. They were wrestling, or- JC squinted at them- possibly groping each other. One as excuse for the other, most likely. Maybe he could knock Justin into the pool and try that.

"I know it's just us," Justin said, breaking the silence between them, "but they're kind of beautiful together. Aren't they?"

JC nodded. At least it wasn't just him.

-

"Do you think the gay thing is just because they're clones?" Justin asked.

"I don't think they're necessarily gay," JC said carefully. He'd thought about this, actually. "Like, you can't apply that term to them because it doesn't have any meaning for them, or any relevance to the society they were raised in. It's like trying to call Oscar Wilde gay, or the ancient Greeks. It's not, like. Culturally accurate."

"No, I mean," Justin said, holding up the new issue of People. It had a picture of Lindsay Lohan and her clone, Lo, on the cover. The headline read 'My Clone Love Affair: The Real Story'. "'Cause a lot of them are." He passed the magazine over, and JC flipped to the article inside. There was a sidebar about the hot new clone power couples, with an oblique reference to the recent trend of clone threesomes. Lots of pictures of Lindsay and Lo snuggled up with each other, too, with thin blond Lindsay leaning against naturally red-headed Lo. They were gorgeous.

JC looked at Justin sitting on the lawn chair next to him, stretched out and wearing a pair of JC's jeans. They looked great on him, but would absolutely, JC was sure, look better crumpled up on JC's floor. "Sure, yeah," JC lied. "Probably just the clone thing."

-

"So the water cooler topic of the week around here is clone sex," Jon Stewart said onscreen. "If you have sex with your clone, is it masturbation or incest? A recent poll by Christian Science Weekly indicates that only twenty percent of people consider it more akin to masturbation. The other eighty percent, of course, don't actually know what masturbation is. It's 2006, people," Jon said, looking into the camera, "if we can discuss clone sex, then I think we can teach the residents of middle America about masturbation. On location in Arkansas to do just that, our very own Rob Corrdry. Over to you, Rob."

"We should talk," Justin said. He leaned into JC's room, now wearing a pair of JC's old pajama bottoms. An earlier attempt to take Tim home had been unsuccessful, and Justin hadn't wanted to leave and stick JC with both of them. So he was staying over again, only in another bedroom this time. Except that he was here now, waiting for JC to invite him in.

"Okay," JC said. He shut the TV off and looked at Justin, silhouetted in the doorway now by the bright hallway light and coming toward him. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Three guesses," Justin said, climbing onto the bed next to JC and settling in on his stomach.

"Have you thought about what you're going to do with Tim?" JC asked. "He needs his own life. So does Chas. They're people, man, they need to do things. Have jobs. Live on their own."

"Yeah, 'cause we're really gonna get the two of them living separately."

"They're in love," JC said, after a minute.

"Yeah," Justin said, picking at the comforter.

"So."

"So."

JC sighed. So did Justin.

"They make each other so happy," Justin said finally. He sounded wistful. "It's like, they're us. But they're not."

"No, they're not." He looked at Justin, at the long bare line of his back, inked and freckled and utterly gorgeous. Unable to resist, he reached out and ran the pad of his thumb down Justin's spine. Justin arched up a little, his eyes fluttering closed. "What are we going to do?"

"I don't know," Justin said quietly. "Can I stay here? In your room, I mean?"

"Sure." He held up the edge of the covers and Justin slipped under as JC shut off the bedside lamp. They lay in the darkness for a moment, saying nothing, and then Justin reached out, settling a hand over JC's bare stomach. JC was still for a moment, feeling suddenly small under the press of Justin's fingers, and when he said "hey," Justin scooted closer, wrapping an arm around JC's waist. After a minute, JC curled an arm around Justin's shoulders, holding him there, warm and safe. It was- nice. Good. Comfortable.

"I just want," Justin murmured as JC lingered on the edge of sleep. He didn't finish the sentence, and JC pulled him closer. Maybe that was all. Maybe Justin just wanted; JC knew the feeling.

-

The phone was ringing. It just seemed to keep doing that. JC glared at it, but it rang on, clearly unaware of his mounting wrath. "Hello," he growled into the receiver.

"Good morning," Chris said brightly. "I take it you didn't get my message yesterday, or any of the others we left you. Are you sleeping with Justin?"

JC tried to sit bolt upright, but before he could really begin the process his body realized that it wasn't really up to the task, and not just because Justin was sprawled on top of him. Really, it would have been too much effort even without Justin there. "No," JC said. "Yes. What?"

"Glad that's cleared up," Chris said. "Have you seen Paris Hilton lately?"

"Um." JC squinted at the bedside clock. It was coming on eleven, so he probably couldn't distract Chris by bitching about the early hour, and anyway he kind of wanted to know what Chris was talking about. "Yeah, a few nights ago." Justin made an annoyed noise, tightening his arm around JC's waist. JC lowered his voice. "Why?"

"Because according to her, and now Page Six, your clones are in love."

"Oh. Well, they are." JC shifted the phone to his other hand, placing an absent kiss on Justin's forehead. "Why'd you think I was sleeping with Justin?"

"I didn't, I was just guessing. Are you?"

"No, Chris, you woke me up."

"Okay, just check- wait, what?"

"Nothing. Whoops, I've got another call, I'll talk to you later," JC said quickly, and snapped the phone shut, then rethought that and turned the phone off completely.

"Whas goin' on?" Justin asked, peering sleepily up at him.

"Chris thinks we're sleeping together," JC said, running a hand through Justin's hair. The curls were growing out a little, enough that JC could tangle his fingers in them and hold on. Which would be nice for certain things, JC thought. Justin's mouth would also be nice for certain things. Probably this wasn't a very productive line of thought to be following when they were lying platonically together in the same bed.

"What'd you tell 'im?"

"That our clones were. He already knew that, though. Paris told Page Six." JC paused. "Probably we shouldn't let them leave the house for a few days."

Justin nodded, and the slow movement tickled a little. JC had been trying to ignore the fact that they were both half-naked, but the effort was now failing him. He ran his hand down Justin's spine, then back up again. Justin shivered. "So I should stay here," he whispered.

"Yeah." JC swallowed. "That'd be a good idea."

Right.

-

"So I've been thinking," Justin said. He peeked out the window, and several flashbulbs went off. He let the curtain fall closed again. "We're probably going to be stuck here for the rest of our natural lives. We should be doing something interesting with our time."

"We are," Tim and Chas chorused, and then smiled adoringly at each other.

"Besides fuck all day," Justin said, rolling his eyes. "You guys should be thinking about jobs."

"We've been writing songs together," Tim said. "Chas is really good."

"You're better," Chas said to him.

"No, you are."

"You are."

JC looked at Justin. He was pretty sure neither of them had ever been that annoying.

"We'll do small shows," Tim said. "Our songs are good, and clones are cool right now. We'll make enough to get by. I think we should get an apartment in West Hollywood," he told Chas.

"And a chinchilla," Chas said.

"They have a plan," JC said to Justin.

"It's better than mine," Justin admitted. "I don't even know when I'm going to start on the next album."

-

During the day, JC and Justin helped Chas and Tim lay down tracks in the studio. The cuts were rough, but pretty good, even if they were all sappy love songs with titles like "Forever" and "Eternally" and "Clone My Heart". They'd probably do well with the Starbucks set, filed under inoffensive music to drink your latte to. JC wanted to do a dance remix of one of them.

"So there's you," Justin said, "with your crazy alien sex dance music, and then there's me, bringing the hip-hop and r&b, and somehow this combination results in Sarah McLachlan songs sung by two guys."

"Yeah," JC said. He shook his head.

"What rhymes with 'commitment ceremony'?" Tim asked.

-

During the night, JC and Justin slept together.

-

"I'm glad you and Justin are in love, too," Chas said. "If he's anything like Tim he'll make you really happy."

"Justin's not in love with me," JC said. "I think he's just lonely."

Chas frowned. "So fix it."

"You can't just fix loneliness, man. It doesn't work that way."

"Maybe you're just not trying hard enough." It was easy for him to be all serene, JC thought as Tim came up and kissed Chas on the forehead. He already _had_ a Justin. Although JC did like his better.

-

"What's the matter?" Justin asked. His breath was warm on the back of JC's neck, as was the rest of him, pressed up against JC in the bed. As far as JC was concerned, everything was pretty much okay.

"My clone's giving me advice on my sex life now," JC said.

"Was it good advice?"

"I’m not sure."

"Maybe you should try it out," Justin said after a moment.

JC turned carefully in the circle of Justin's arms until they were facing each other, only a few inches between them because Justin didn't seem particularly inclined to loosen his hold.

"I don't want to fuck things up," JC said.

"We have clones, and they're in love with each other," Justin said. "Things are already pretty fucked up."

"You think sex will make things better?"

"Sex makes everything better," Justin said confidently.

That wasn't technically true, but Justin seemed pretty sure about it, so JC decided to trust his judgment. "So," JC said, "you're saying I should have sex with somebody."

"Oh my god," Justin said, and kissed him. It was good, even with JC trying not to smile into it, and failing. Justin pushed him onto his back, and JC looked up at him. "What? What's so funny?"

"Nothing," JC said. "I just didn't think it would go this way. I didn't think you'd be into it."

Justin rolled his eyes. "Seriously, what the hell does a guy have to do to get in your pants? Was crawling into your bed and refusing to leave too subtle for you?"

"I just thought you didn't want to sleep alone," JC said.

"We snuggled, dude. Like every night."

"I thought you were lonely?" JC tried.

Justin rolled his eyes. "Well, yeah. You know what cures loneliness real well?"

"A puppy?" JC grinned.

"If I didn't need you to fuck me right now, I would seriously kill you," Justin said. "Lucky for you I want your ass. Take your clothes off."

Neither of them were sleeping in much anyway, these days, and they managed to get their boxers down and off with minimal fuss, only getting tangled up once and starting JC laughing until Justin shut him up with a kiss. It was pretty effective, as distraction techniques went, and JC wound his fingers in Justin's curls, pushing up against him as Justin slid his lips down JC's neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks. The thought of getting a hickey from Justin Timberlake was almost enough to set JC off again, but then Justin's hand drifted down to grasp JC's cock, and suddenly nothing seemed particularly funny anymore.

He pushed at Justin until they rolled over, carefully hitching Justin's legs up with JC between. Justin lifted his hips, looking up at him through his eyelashes. "Gonna fuck me now? I wasn't sure if you were paying attention before." JC jerked open the nightstand drawer, pulling out lube and condoms without taking his eyes off Justin. Justin swallowed. "Um," he said.

"Don't worry," JC said. "I won’t fuck you too hard."

"Hey," Justin protested, watching as JC unrolled the condom and put it on, then uncapped the lube. "No, I want you too, come on. Don't hold back, you won't hurt me or anything."

It was sort of glorious how Justin played right into his hands sometimes, JC reflected. He lifted two fingers, shining with lube, and showed them to Justin. He grasped Justin's knee with his other hand, bending his leg back and then pushing one finger into Justin, followed by the second not long after, with Justin squirming against him and thrusting back, so easy and eager and open already that JC had to wonder who'd done him before. "You do this a lot?" JC asked.

"Not- mmm," he said, as JC added a third finger, "not a lot. Just like it, I guess."

"You guess." JC curled his fingers up and Justin's hips bucked, his hands clawing at the sheets.

"Please," Justin said, his eyes squeezed shut. "JC."

It wasn't like JC needed a lot of urging either way; Justin was so ready for it that it seemed unnecessarily cruel to make him wait for it any longer, at least today. Next time, maybe, he'd tease Justin, make him beg for it, see what he could get Justin to say or do. Next time. Tomorrow, perhaps. JC grinned and pulled his fingers out, replacing them with the head of his cock, nudging in as Justin moaned.

Justin opened his eyes, looking at JC as JC pushed into him, one long slow thrust that had Justin biting his lower lip and clutching at JC's arm where it was holding him up and poised over Justin. Another thrust, with a bit more force behind it, and Justin slid further down onto the bed until he was flat on his back, legs wrapped high around JC's waist and head thrown back. JC leaned down, kissed him once, then caught Justin's wrists in his hands and fucked him hard.

"Yeah, like that," Justin murmured. JC took that as a sign that he wasn't doing it hard enough, not if Justin could still talk. Justin shuddered when JC pulled back and then thrust roughly back into him, both of them panting now. JC moved his hands to Justin's hips, lifting them further to get the angle he wanted, and Justin gasped out, "Yeah, yeah," and JC decided not to take it personally. Clearly Justin was a talker. That was okay. Justin talked, JC pounded him into the mattress. It sounded like a good system to JC.

It was really not going to take long at this rate; JC had been tense enough from sleeping with Justin and having him around all the time so he couldn't jerk off as much as he liked. Plus, it was _Justin_ arching up underneath him and moaning and digging his nails into JC's skin and saying his name and wanting him, just like he'd been wanting Justin this whole time, since before, even. JC placed one hand on Justin's face, and Justin leaned into it, looking up at him with wide blue eyes and saying, "C," and that did it; JC grasped Justin's cock, taking him along with him as he came, a few strokes and that was all Justin needed.

Justin hardly moved as JC pulled out and lay down next to him. That was fine. JC needed a minute to catch his breath, too.

"So, wow," Justin said finally.

JC smiled.

"Will you still get me a puppy?" Justin asked.

JC smacked him.

-

"So _now_ are you in love?" Chas asked the next day.

"Yes," JC said.

"I told you."

JC nodded.

-

He wasn't really sure Justin was, though, and he didn't really want to ask, because that would be weird. Not that it wasn't weird that he was fucking Justin pretty much every night, but they still didn't talk much about things like that.

Of course, JC thought as Justin gave him a spectacular blowjob up against the bedroom door, it was kind of difficult to focus on talking when Justin was curving his tongue along the underside of JC's cock and gazing up at him like there was no place he'd rather be than on his knees. Or when they locked the clones outside and had sex on the couch, then in the kitchen, then up against the wall in the hallway. Justin was eager, and willing, and prone to dragging JC off to the bedroom at any given moment. It seemed that sex had made everything better. JC couldn't actually remember what problems they'd had before, or if there even had been any. Maybe the whole thing had been some wild fever dream.

Except that Chas and Tim were still bumming around the house, smiling all the time and singing to each other, and they finally had enough tracks to make a proper album. Justin talked to Johnny about it, and Johnny hooked them up with a good manager, then a record deal.

Justin and Tim had been living with JC and Chas for a few months when Tim and Chas went out on tour, opening for Jewel, and then doing a run of sold-out club shows. Their album debuted at number three, and stayed comfortably in the adult contemporary top ten for several months. JC's concept album about clone sex sold about the same number of copies.

Gay was in, and not just in the 'I watch Queer Eye so that means I'm progressive' sense, either. With the new topics of deviant clone sex and polyamory to bitch about, the red states couldn't get quite as het up about regular old boy-on-boy sex. People were coming out all over the place, and rainbow was suddenly the new black. Nobody came out to The Advocate anymore, they came out to Time, or on Oprah. Salma Hayek and Penelope Cruz came out via a twenty-page photo spread in W.

"So you know the whole clone thing was just an excuse for us to have sex, right," Justin said, as he and JC watched Nick Carter and Howie Dorough holding hands on Leno. "I always thought we would anyway. Because, like. I love you and stuff."

"Cool," JC said. "I mean, I love you too."

"Cool." Justin slipped beneath the covers. JC turned the TV off.

-

"So you know the whole thing where you're supposed to tell your friends when you fall in love with each other?" Chris asked when JC opened the door. "Yeah, you guys suck at that."

"You saw Vanity Fair, huh?" JC asked, wincing.

"Um, no," Chris said. He crossed his arms. "I ran into Nick Carter and he said to tell you guys how happy he was for you. I hate you both, by the way. And what about Vanity Fair?"

"Come on in, man," JC said, then handed his advance copy over to Chris. He and Justin were on the cover with Chas and Tim, pouting moodily at the camera above the headline.

"The first annual clones issue?" Chris said. "You told fucking Vanity Fair before you told me?"

"Actually Chas and Tim outed us when they got the cover of Entertainment Weekly." JC shrugged. "It wasn't a big thing."

"Lance and I are getting married, by the way." Chris sat down at the kitchen table. "Thought I'd mention."

"Sure you are," Justin said, strolling in and taking the chair next to Chris. "Has he turned into a girl again?"

"No, I've just discovered my big gay love for him. He's fantastic in the sack." Chris held up his hand. A thick platinum band encircled his ring finger, gleaming dully in the afternoon light. "He seduced me in Miami, and now we're going to make honest men out of each other. Do you think Chas and Tim will sing at our wedding? I like the one they do about the commitment ceremony."

JC squinted at Chris, suddenly unsure. It was usually safe to assume that Chris was fucking with them; it was sort of his default state. He was smiling, though, almost serenely. If this was really a joke then Chris was doing a fantastic job of selling it.

"You're not serious," Justin said, eyes narrowed. He turned to JC. "He's not serious."

"Well," JC said, pulling Justin back against him and curling a hand around his waist. "Stranger things have happened."


End file.
